Description
Sister's Heart follows the treacherous journey of the sisters Nora and Christine as they find themselves surrounded by demonic creatures, warfare, and political upheaval. Worse still, as they are caught in the middle of it all, they are forced to find a way to overthrow the demon usurper king. With next to no allies and even less help, the trials before them are terrifyingly large. But...while there is life, there is hope.

Summary
To eat, sleep, and delay death were the only worries the sisters Christine and Nora concerned themselves with. But when maleficent influences beyond their knowledge or control drive them into a world of political upheaval, they become ensnared in the chaos and desperately seek escape from the international turmoil. Yet as they constantly try to slip away into oblivion, it becomes more and more apparent that all their efforts are in vain. For now they have become an intimate part of the cataclysmic events around them whether they like it or not.

Excerpt
Muddler rushed as fast as he could through the muck that swilled about him. Away he ran into the darkness. The three addressed one another with solemn looks and carried on. When at last Muddler returned to the Cobbler’s Clogs, he popped out like a cork from the sewer, not bothering to shake himself free of the muck. Without pausing for an instant to catch his breath, he seized a large saddle bag and began to stuff it with food, water and other articles of importance. When he finished packing, he ran shouting throughout the tavern.
“Angus! Angus where are you?”
“I’m afraid he’s indisposed.”
Muddler turned around and dropped the bag in shock. Behind him stood a monstrous dog grinning from ear to ear with every tooth in his head revealed. But what filled Muddler with dread was when he saw Angus lying limp at his feet. He lay on the ground so his face was hidden from Muddler, but his deathly pale hands and motionless body was enough for Muddler to realize the truth.
“He was nineteen.” Muddler whimpered.
“He was a miserable weakling at best, bumbling and pathetic to the end.”
“Yet bold enough to serve empty-headed drunkards like you who couldn’t tell up from down half the time.”
The guard snarled maliciously. Several other guards came lurking out from all around, surrounding Muddler. The head guard strut to the back room and sniffed the air deeply. Looking to the cellar, he saw the rows of stacked barrels lined against the walls.
“So you’re no more than a petty thief stealing from the great lord Chaf all these years. You’ve got some nerve robbing the sealed-off stores of his domain!”
“You’ve got a lot of guts yourselves getting intoxicated as often as you did knowing full well how passionately Chaf despises it.” Muddler retorted. “And while we’re on the subject, I think I minus well tell you what I’ve thought of your lord Chaf ever since he first came. I think he’s the most loathsome, vile, unimpressively despicable being to ever have the gall to show himself to the world. His triumph and victory doesn’t mean rooster scratch to me. I know his inhuman ways are merely his futile method of revenge for being denied a power never meant to be his. No conquest will give him the power to defeat the white stag!”
Muddler opened a nearby bottle of cider and took a swing of it before continuing. “The only thing that gave me any reason to stay and serve you mongrels was the pleasure of getting you deliriously drunk night after night to the point where you ran into every wall in the city by the time you sobered up. Just watching the servants of Chaf try to walk out those doors and failing repeatedly made me hope that you were as stupid as you were ugly!”
All the sentinel beasts in the room bayed savagely at the affront. The head guard curled his black lip revealing his numerous yellow teeth as he glared with red eyes at Muddler.
“Tell us where the girls went, and I might let you live with an arm and a leg still intact.”
Muddler cocked his head and posed in a thoughtful position. Then, after a moment, he scratched his large head and asked sardonically.
“Girls? What girls?”